alim As it were said by urbantiger40:
If we’re being honest, one could argue that Jesus wouldn't have even come close to being a fully realized personality.
I find myself returning to the idea that Marxism is fundamentally anchored in the concept of labor. It isn't just some abstract theory floating in the ether; rather, it offers a way to interpret our social dynamics and the very essence of being human by starting from one specific, undeniable point: an individual's position within the process of work.
It doesn’t necessarily have to be an immediate confrontation, nor is it always intended to be. After all, a capitalist might find themselves deeply questioning the standing and the influence of their class enemy, perhaps more often than they care to admit. I am convinced that the most profound intellectual breakthroughs emerge from this very friction—this constant, grinding interplay of opposing forces. Yet, even amidst such ideological turbulence, we must remember that labor remains the fundamental point of departure for everything else.
The entire modern world we inhabit today essentially rests upon a single, fundamental premise: that individuals are defined solely by their position within the grand machinery of existence. We find ourselves being shaped and molded by our specific roles in this relentless, chaotic whirlwind of activity—a constant surge of events driven entirely by the collective momentum of human agency.
The Marxist interpretation of Jesus simply lacks any real foundation in his actual life and work; he exists entirely outside that materialist framework.
Now, let’s say we set that particular issue aside for a moment—let's pretend it isn't an obstacle at all. But if we pivot our focus and take a look at something else entirely...
If we take a moment to look at this from a purely philosophical standpoint, one might argue that Jesus doesn't represent a complete, singular persona, but rather exists as a fragmented identity—essentially, only half of a personality.
Well, we find ourselves in quite a curious predicament now, don't we? It’s a fascinating situation to dissect, really, because we are witnessing a man being systematically stripped of his very identity—and I don't mean his athletic credentials, though those are certainly being targeted. No, this goes much deeper than that. We are watching someone have half of his essence erased, not through any physical means, but through purely ideological ones.
The half that was left to him... oh, good heavens, it’s simply a matter of grace. It is as if you were to strike him with a stone, yet he responds by offering you his very bread.
The other half—the part that’s been systematically erased from our conversation—is pure anarchy. Or perhaps it’s just radical individualism. It’s that space existing entirely outside the framework of the system, completely beyond the reach of any regime.
You know that old saying about giving to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God? Well, if you ask me, there’s a much more honest way to finish that thought: just tell them both to go jump in a lake. Why bother splitting your loyalty between two different masters when you can simply reject the whole rigged game?
His initial connection to his neighbors—that loose, half-hearted tie to the community—wasn't even enough to drive him toward any kind of moral compass or faith, mainly because he had zero respect for those people or the gods they worshipped. But then, once that entire social tether was completely severed, everything changed. From the wreckage of that lost connection, he emerged as something entirely different: a flawless, unwavering enforcer of the regime.
So... there you have it. His supposed capacity for love was effectively smothered by his own desperate need for autonomy, and the result? It transformed what could have been a truly great man into nothing more than a complete and utter coward.
It feels like a relentless parade of cowards, a continuous stream of spineless actors performing for every single neighborhood that’s crossed their path over the last two millennia.
... just to wrap things up ... one last thing ...
I want to take this opportunity to offer a sincere apology to a real man. For far too long, I treated him with nothing but contempt and utter disrespect—not because he deserved it, but simply because that was the caricature everyone else forced upon me. I couldn't see the actual person standing there; I was too blinded by the sheer, infuriating nonsense being fed to me by others to ever bridge that gap and recognize his true character.
I’m taking this opportunity to declare a curse upon all that hollowed-out paradise—all those wasted heavens that, for God's sake, managed to manufacture nothing but a spineless coward, simply because they were too busy scavenging and crawling through the dirt just to scrape by.
May all those people be damned—every single one of them—and may their very legacy be cursed along with them.
Good heavens, give me strength!
I find myself wondering: is my cat a Marxist? Based on your enthusiastic endorsement of a philosophy rooted in that forced phenomenon we call "labor," I’m going to have to disagree—my cat is definitely not a Marxist.
I’m telling you, this guy is a more fervent Marxist than Marx, Engels, and Lenin could ever hope to be combined. As for all that other philosophical nonsense people like to peddle? I won't even dignify it with a mention; it simply isn't worth the breath.
To suggest that Marxism was anything more than a mere fragment of a much larger, far more intricate intellectual tapestry is to fundamentally misunderstand the scope of the entire movement. In reality, what we often encounter as "Marxism" is nothing more than the tail end of a significantly more sophisticated and layered ideological structure.
I’ve come to the conclusion that my cat is a textbook Marxist. He lives entirely off my labor and my bank account, yet in exchange, he offers nothing more than a bit of purring when I scratch his ears and the occasional demand that I drop everything to play with him. Honestly, though, I view this arrangement as an absolute win; the sheer relaxation he provides makes every cent spent on premium kibble feel like a righteous investment. It is, in its own way, a complete and perfect existence. As long as he maintains this particular brand of revolutionary indifference, I find him utterly charming—and I certainly have no intention of tossing him out onto the streets of Chicago to scavenge through trash cans just because he refuses to contribute to the GDP.
Work isn't just some incidental part of life; it is a fundamental necessity that has been analyzed, dissected, and refined by more thinkers than perhaps any other concept in human history.
Labor is a deeply complex phenomenon, one that is inextricably woven into the very fabric of our existence and our relationship with both the world around us and the universe at large. To attempt to build an entire philosophy centered solely on labor as a prerequisite for existence is, quite frankly, rather foolish. More than that, history warns us that such a narrow view is dangerous. Marxism essentially reduced the human being to nothing more than a cog in a machine—a worker bee in a hive—stripping away every ounce of spiritual value and devaluing the essence of humanity by insisting that meaning can only be found through toil and through work alone.
It is sheer absurdity. And why should I even bother explaining myself?
You clearly haven't the slightest clue who Jesus was. Yet, you pose the question of whether he was a Marxist, offering the conclusion that under the lens of Marxism, Jesus wouldn't be considered a "complete" individual. Well then, shall we see?
Jesus actually worked; he spent his days in the carpentry shop of his father—or rather, his stepfather, Joseph. It stands to reason that once he began preaching his teachings, he could no longer simply be a carpenter. It’s as plain as day: one cannot occupy two roles simultaneously in such a way. Thus, Jesus transitioned from a laborer to perhaps the greatest philosopher the world has ever witnessed. Why? Because he preached love. Any self-proclaimed philosopher who fails to preach love is nothing more than a fool—not a thinker, but a charlatan who merely strokes his own ego with grand words while manipulating and bewildering everyone else.
As a philosopher, a prophet, and the Son of God, Jesus spoke his truth—distinct from those later additions woven into history, which were nonetheless divine truths, serving as a blueprint for how we mere mortals, living as the sons and daughters of God, ought to conduct ourselves.
He spoke precisely what Marxism lacked. In fact, Marxism collapsed because it neglected, or perhaps outright despised, the spiritual dimension of the human being. It committed a terrible sin by dividing people into those who believe and those who do not, acting as if believers were always nothing more than mindless, manipulated cattle. That is where Marxism failed miserably and fell into the gutter. That was its undoing. It was a beautiful half-dream, a half-philosophy that millions of disenfranchised souls attempted to dream in all the wrong ways. Ultimately, the end was inevitable because Marxism, as a philosophy, was never as just as it ought to have been. The masters of Marxism infused practical Marxism with such lethal paranoia, jealousy, egoism, and contempt for the human spirit that it became truly staggering. Stalin took this to the level of absolute absurdity and atrocity.
Marxism itself wasn't inherently evil, but it was incomplete and bizarrely foolish because it failed to integrate the spiritual aspect of humanity into its framework. Consequently, it could never function as a truly just philosophy. What we ended up with was a "Red Bourgeoisie" that dismantled everything positive originally contained within Marxist thought. Nevertheless, Marxism contributed immensely to the defeat of history's greatest darkness, even while becoming somewhat dark itself—darker, at least, to many who actually believed in it. They lost their heads to arrogant, envious power brokers at every level, or they ended up in prisons where the cruelty of Marxism as a philosophy was on full display.
Therefore, Jesus Christ was a Marxist in the fullest sense of the word. Throughout his life, he had callouses on his hands from working wood, yet he possessed a divinely brilliant mind and a heart overflowing with love for all living things. This is the only recipe through which a human can approach their true purpose: through labor—which is a necessity that, in its desperation, forces a man to confront his lack of freedom and compels him to reflect on his own heart and the very purpose of existence while he is still alive. One must overcome the egoism imposed upon us by biology and the stupidity born of laziness in learning and thinking. The meaning of existence for the vast majority of human beings lies, and can only lie, in community. This is the nature of the divine; it is one of the fundamental attributes of the divine. The universe is a community functioning according to six constants, and we deduce our own intelligence and capability based on the results we observe. The human race is a microcosm of the universe, and the recipe for its existence should be community—the fairest possible path: love and understanding. Unfortunately, there are plenty of malicious vermin out there who, in their malice, aren't particularly bright either. Eventually, they settle their anxieties and madness through bloody periodic purges, or they introduce decadence into society in other ways, only to find that the biological force of good—God willing—always catches up with them in the end. It has always been this way throughout history, and it will remain so. In the meantime, let the average consciousness grow and grow and grow. Perhaps then, as a species, we might inherit the attributes of the living God. So, all my best to Jesus. The greatest hyper-Marxist to ever exist, and ever to exist.
urbantiger40,
